ROSE
Two weeks later… Something was wrong with me. One moment I was happy and in the next I was sad, bawling my eyes out like a crazy mad woman. It happened five times in the last three weeks. First was when I was with Michael and he had taken me to a non-date date (yeah, he knew I wasn’t ready and I knew he wanted to take me on a date, so we settled on a non-date date). When we had finished our dinner, Michael had surprised me with the best chocolate cake I had ever have the fortune to eat. It was the first sign for me that I was slowly going crazy. The moment our waiter had placed the cake in front of me, I was smiling like I had never in my entire life eaten a cake and then after just two bites I was crying. _ “Are you okay, Rose? What happened? Is something wrong with the cake?” Michael’s happy face was suddenly turned into a concerned one, and he had fired his questions one after the other in rapid succession. “It’s so yummy.” I had replied, tears still trailing down my cheeks. For a whole minute Michael had just sat there and stared at me. And, then he had asked, “It’s yummy… that’s why you are crying?” “No?” I wasn’t sure myself that why was I crying. “I don’t know.” Thankfully, that time, Michael had just given me a soft smile and that was that. _ The second thing that told me I was going all bonkers was the fact that in the last few days my appetite had increased so much that I was sure it was equal to what I would consider the appetite of a bear, a very big one. Just yesterday, I was eating like I hadn’t eaten in weeks and then unfortunately I had opened the drawer under the sink in which Monica’s stash of alcohol was. Just looking at those bottles had reminded me the taste and smell of the alcohol I had consumed, making my stomach roil in disgust. After that, I didn’t eat much, because I was hanging over the toilet bowl. Now, I was just sitting on the couch and flipping through the channels as I waited for Michael or Monica, as I didn’t know who was coming to take me to the appointment with the doctor. At first, I wasn’t going to go but then these crazy things happening to me made me rethink my decision. I picked up my phone with an intent to call any one of my friends but paused as the notification from YouTube showed on the screen. It was the notification from my favourite youtuber, so I just clicked on to watch the video. Ten minutes later I was scrawling through the different videos when I came across the video of that skimpy little birthday girl and him. I didn’t know what came over me as I hit play on the video. Of course, I had already watched this on the news when he and I had a fight. But, this time I wasn’t shocked like the other time. Once the video was finished, I didn’t go crazy and I didn’t cry. Then, something else caught my eyes. A video with the title- “FLAVOR OF THE MONTH OR WIFE OF THE BILLIONAIRE, RYAN JOHNSON.” My mind told me to just scroll, or to just put my phone down. But I watched as my finger lifted and tapped on the video on its own accord, and it started to play. “Mr. Ryan, is it true that you are dating Alison Courtney?” A reported asked as the camera was focused on his face. “When the rumor is that you’re already married?” Then my breath caught as the camera flashed on him. Fuck. I didn't want to see his face. But, I couldn’t make myself to look away or to close the damn phone. My eyes remained glued on the screen where he stood with his arm around the woman as tall as him and as beautiful as any other super model or actress. He was wearing his usual three piece suit but only on closer inspection it wasn’t as fitted to his body as it was before. His grey eyes were hidden behind the pair of Ray-Ban. I could see that it was the night event, but I didn’t see the reason for the glasses as he had never wore them before like this. “This is the first time you had made a public appearance after your visit to India. Did you really went there to get away from your wife?” “Are you really married?” “Are you cheating on your wife?” “Can you confirm your marital status or are you planning to get married anytime soon?” The camera flashed to the woman plastered to his side, her hand going around his waist as they descended the stairs. The reporter came back again, asking the same question and this time Ryan replied. “No, I don’t plan to marry. Everyone knows that I’m married. How many times you guys want me to get married. I already have a wife.” Ryan said into the mike that was thrust in his face. The camera cut to the reporter as he spoke next, “So it’s true… Ryan Johnson, the most popular and handsome billionaire was already married all these years. And, probably the report of his engagement with the Jyoglina Georgette was true and she is the woman who had captured most wanted bachelor in NY.” The screen cut to the various pictures of him with that actress. The same actress that I had seen on the day when I had googled him. He had said it was all fake, but now he just confirmed the news. My face scrunched up and my eyes started to glaze over with the tears. A sob caught in my throat as I threw the phone across the room. I loved him. I needed him. I wanted him. Near me. To hold me. To kiss me. But he wasn’t here. He was all the way back to New York, where he was holding another beautiful woman who wasn’t me. All this time he had lied to me. He was already married. The news of his engagement that I’d read all those weeks ago was true. He fucking cheated on his wife with me and was now back there to be with his wife. I was feeling empty. Lonely. All of a sudden it felt like there was nothing holding me to the present or even in this world. I was all alone. All the things that Monica, Michael and Natasha had done for me in the last few weeks to cheer me up seemed insignificant at that moment. The place where my heart should be was hollow, there was nothing there, all I could feel was a dull throb of pain as I sobbed. My eyes burned with the tears, I felt my soul crushing, but my mind and body gave up on me in that moment. It decided for me to do for what I got up from the couch and started toward my bedroom. As I walked into the room, all I could think was that it wasn’t supposed to happen to me. I wasn’t supposed to love him like that. I wasn’t to fall for my tormentor. I had thought that I was strong but I wasn’t. He had proved me wrong. He had left me broken and weak. And, from what I saw I didn't think he even thought about me now. He has moved on. I sucked in a breath and stiffened as I watched the red liquid gushing out of my split wrist. It wasn’t until I couldn’t even hold my hand up any longer and it fell limp by my side that I realised how many cuts I had made on my once smooth white skin. That what I had actually done. Now, my wrist looked messed up with the criss-cross cuts marking my skin and I watched fascinated as blood oozed out of the cuts and dripped down on the bathroom floor, staining the tiles. I stumbled down on the floor as my eyes rolled back in my head, thinking that Monica wouldn’t like to find these red stains in her bathroom. And that's how I ended up in the hospital for the second time. ____ A. Gupta Check out my other completed books, CAGED-A DARK BILLIONAIRE CAPTÎVE ROMANCE. BRIDE TO BE. HIS BROKEN PRINCESS.ROSEWhen I finally felt like it’d be fine to get out of the bathroom, I opened the door and stopped short. Michael was standing against the opposite wall with his arms crossed over his chest.“You didn’t tell him.” There was a hint of accusation in his voice.And, I was afraid that somehow in the moment of weakness I had lost my friend. My very genuine and kind friend. The friend who has been there to hold me up when everything was crumbling down to nothing around me.“Michael, I…”He raked a hand through his hair as he pushed back from the wall. In two long strides he was standing in front of me. “Rose, I know whatever happened wasn’t what you wanted… it just happened, and I also know that now you’re beating yourself for it. But…” He took a long breath. “You have to tell him.”I nodded my head, agreeing with him. “I know.”He chucked me under the chin, smiling. “Good.” His eyes flickered to my stomach as he placed his hand on it. “How’s the little bean?”“As demanding as his father,
RYAN “Why are you here? Don't you have somewhere to run off to?” As soon as the words left her mouth, I watched the guilty look that creeped up on her face and the wince she tried to hide. I rubbed a hand down my face, I was at a loss here. I didn't have a first clue to how to make her understand that I had made a mistake by leaving her, and I was not going to repeat that mistake. Because at every turn she refused to listen to me. I had spent the whole night pacing about my house, and at one point, I had even started to clean it. Collecting the bottles. Hiding the antidepressants. Removing every trace of my negligence. I was so restless. I felt so alone all of a sudden, but for once I hadn’t tried to drink my loneliness, instead I had gone to my daughter’s room. There, I had sat down with her picture in my hand. And, surprisingly sleep had come much easier. It had only made me realise that even though I had left Rose behind for the sake of my daughter, to be with my daughter,
ROSE “Please, stop crying, princess. If you’ll just let me, I’ll go there and kick his ass,” Michael said gently, his thumbs wiping away my tears. “You know I can’t let you do that…” I clung to him, sobbing into his chest. “I don’t know, Michael… I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m terrified of giving him another chance. What if it just ends with me breaking all over again?” His arms wrapped tighter around me, grounding me with quiet strength. “Just be strong,” he murmured. “Just be you, princess. And do whatever it is your heart needs to do.” His palm moved soothingly along my spine, and when I lifted my tear-soaked eyes to meet his, the air shifted. There was no warning, no moment to prepare. It happened slowly, almost gently. A flicker of something else entered the space between us. I wanted comfort. I wanted someone to be there for me, and he was. Involuntarily my eyes flickered to his lips and his did the same. “I—” I licked my lips. “We shouldn’t, princess,” he
ROSE The moment Michael opened the hotel suite, I rushed to the bathroom and locked myself inside. And then, I had a long, messy conversation… with the toilet. “Rose?” Michael’s voice came from the other side of the door. “Not now, Michael,” I groaned, slumping onto the cool floor tiles. “Just tell me you’re okay.” I’m not. I’m not okay. How could I be? It took every ounce of strength I had to walk away from him. Every fiber of my being screamed to run back, to stay, to hold him, but I didn’t. And I don’t even understand how he did it, how he left me behind and managed to live with it. Because walking away from him felt like cutting off a part of my soul. “Rose…” Michael tried again, gentler this time. “Michael, please. I know you care about me, and I appreciate that, I really do… but just... leave me alone for a moment." I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t look like someone who had just won. Not at all. I didn’t feel victorious. I didn’t fee
ROSE I walked out of the trailer, achingly aware of my nakedness beneath his shirt. His shirt—that somehow felt like it belonged to me now. Like it had branded itself into my skin. I didn’t want to take it off. I couldn’t. As I stepped into the daylight, Winter came rushing toward me, holding a robe in her hands. The moment she reached me, she wrapped it around my shoulders, cocooning me in its thick warmth. It wasn’t the same robe from earlier. This one was heavier anc longer more like a gown, covering me from my toes to my neck. Concealing what he had touched. What he had claimed. “Are you okay, ma’am?” That was a nice question. One I didn’t have an answer to. So I just shrugged and asked my own. “Where’s Michael?” “He’s waiting outside in the car. Said you’d want to leave as soon as possible,” Winter replied, slightly breathless as she hurried to keep up with my steps. Because I was practically running. But not fast enough, apparently, as I heard him yell out my n
RYAN This woman. So excruciatingly beautiful. Brave. And right now? Absolutely fucking furious. And did I say beautiful? Goddamn it. I can’t even think with her this close. She unmakes me in ways I don’t have words for. No logic. No reason. Just a hollow ache that only she could fill—and lately, that hollow had become a goddamn void. And while she screamed and accused and bled her fury all over me, all I could do was stand there… watching. Listening. Taking all her rage. Because I deserved every ounce of her wrath. Every pointed word. Every tear she fought not to shed. I didn’t even want to close my eyes afraid that she’d disappear. And, I knew I deserved every bit of her condemnation. __ When I had exited the car I was attacked with the paparazzi and media, they had surrounded me like swarm of the bees. “Mr. Ryan, do you have anything to say about your wife?” “Is it true that she's Indian?” “Is she really going to be featured in your next RK fashion magazine?”